In Kenya, prisoners are taking the law into their own hands and using it to get out of jail.

"Last week Abdi's sentence was reduced from death to seven years. We also helped another inmate win his appeal, and he has already left," says Douglas Owiyo, one of a team of prisoner paralegals at Shimo La Tewa maximum security prison in Mombasa.

Since 2007, when he and a dozen other inmates were trained in the law, they have launched more than 3,000 successful appeals, even though they are not fully qualified lawyers

Image caption
Abdi Moka (L) says he owes the paralegals, like Douglas Owiyo (R), his life

In Kenya, the majority of people accused of committing a crime face court without a lawyer.

Abdi Moka was one of these.

When he found himself before a judge facing a charge of robbery with violence, he had no idea what to plead or how to defend himself.

Robbery with violence carries a mandatory death sentence in Kenya, and before he knew what was happening, Moka was on death row.

Owiyo and the other prisoner paralegals drafted a written submission which Moka presented at his appeal. They won.

The appeal judge agreed that Moka should have been charged with a lesser crime and given a much lighter sentence.

"When I was sentenced to death I thought I would lose my mind," Moka remembers.

"But now, thanks to the paralegals, I have hope again."

'Intelligent questions'

Dismas Omondi's story

One of the first prisoners to be trained as a paralegal, Dismas Omondi headed the team at Shimo La Tewa and is personally credited with securing the freedom of 250 inmates until his release after 13 years inside. Now he cleans toilets at Mombasa's High Court:

I was arrested and accused of robbery with violence which carries a death sentence. I was found guilty and [for] around nine years was in a segregation block. It was very challenging. Us Christians were reading [the] Bible, singing hymns and concentrating on our court files. I had books given to me by a missionary containing the laws and past judgements. The officer in charge allowed me access to them because he knew I was helping others. I can perform well, more than other lawyers, because I've been doing them practically and people have been acquitted.

The government should consider supporting those who come out of prison - the majority after serving long sentences do reform but cannot manage outside. Like me, when I was released I was given 200 shillings ($2.30; £1.50) which is not enough to take me from Shimo to [my home in] Likoni. A chief magistrate decided to give us [janitor jobs] at this [toilet] facility to assist us for the time being. [People pay] 10 shillings for both short and long calls. We get around 600 shillings a day - shared with my colleague, an ex-prisoner. I could not have imagined this, when in prison I could not even think of washing the toilets.

I'd like to pursue further studies, because I have enough basic skills and knowledge regarding the law. In the court where I work I go and read the judgements… [often of those] I helped. I am very much happy when I meet them in the street, they say: 'Ah Dismas, thank you!'

"There is a lot of it because, for instance, if someone is charged with being in possession of a weapon with intent to steal, he may say: 'Yes, I was found in possession of a weapon,' and admit [that].

"But the catch is he had no intention of stealing. If he knew some basics he could not have done that."

He says the impact of the prisoner paralegals can really be seen when defendants come to court.

"Once they have exposure to the paralegals they know their rights," he says.

"They ask for the statements of the witnesses, they sometimes ask for adjournments so they can prepare their defence.

"I can see them asking intelligent questions to the witnesses who are testifying against them.

"Some even make submissions on points of law, which to my mind is a great improvement."

The organisation responsible for the training of prisoner paralegals in Kenya is Kituo Cha Sheria.

Set up in 1973 by a group of Kenyan lawyers concerned by the lack of legal help available to the poor, Kituo Cha Sheria has now evolved into a multi-faceted legal aid and advocacy group.

It campaigns on issues such as abolishing the death penalty, which is still in place in Kenya, although no-one has been executed since 1987.

Following the success of the original prisoner paralegal training in Mombasa, Kituo Cha Sheria has now trained teams in Kamiti Maximum Security Prison and Langata Women's Prison in the capital, Nairobi.

Lifer Joseph Karanja, who heads the paralegals at Kamiti, says that in the first nine months since the training, his team won 120 appeals.

This is confirmed by prison officer Senior Sergeant Benson Ngui, who adds that, prior to the training, he would have expected no more than one or two successful appeals in a year.

'Better than lawyers'

We don't mind if you committed it or not, we are trying to argue with the evidence the court adducedDenga John Lenda, Kamiti paralegal

So how do the prisoner paralegals manage to win so many appeals?

They told me they used the failings of the system, exposing shoddy investigations by the police and incompetent rulings by magistrates.

"We try to prove the trial wasn't safe, for instance in a case of defilement [child sexual abuse], the victim was never examined by a doctor, and the only evidence was the testimony of the mother who may have a grudge against the accused," said Denga John Lenda, the deputy head of the paralegal team at Kamiti.

"We don't mind if you committed it or not, we are trying to argue with the evidence the court adduced."

Karanja is also proud to report that even those prisoners who do have lawyers are choosing to dismiss them and rely on fellow inmates instead.

Kenya's constitution says that citizens have the right to a state-funded lawyer "if substantial injustice would otherwise result".

Allan Nyange, who works as an advocate for Kituo Cha Sheria, explains that even when these state lawyers are provided, they can sometimes be more of a hindrance than a help.

Kenya's prison paralegals

Most Kenyans accused of committing a crime face trial without a lawyer

First inmates received legal training in 2007 at Shimo La Tewa men's prison in Mombasa

Since then prisoners have been trained as paralegals at Shimo La Tewa women's prison and in Nairobi at Kamiti men's prison and Langata women's prison

Responsible for more than 3,500 successful appeals so far

Source: Kituo Cha Sheria

"This is a file that is forced on an advocate, so you can imagine [they are] not interested in criminal things, [they] have other better, well-paid briefs, and this is a matter that is wasting [their] time," he explains.

"So in most cases, most lawyers who are given those cases do not bother, and they would look for any opportunity to ask for an adjournment."

For Mr Nyange, there is in no doubt about the effectiveness of the prisoner paralegals.

"I'll tell you for a fact that most of them are better than lawyers, trained lawyers," he says.

"They have all the time, and they are motivated by the fact that that is how you get people off the system and that is how you might be able to go home."

But what happens when these paralegals do get out of prison?

Dismas Omondi was one of the first batch of paralegals to be trained in Mombasa back in 2007.

After more than 13 years on death row, he finally won his appeal and was released in 2010.

He is personally credited with helping more than 250 fellow inmates get acquitted.

Since his release, he has been working at Mombasa's High Court - but not in a way that puts his legal knowledge and experience to good use.

He cleans the public toilets.

'It's a calling'

Mr Omondi needs to earn a living, and, at present, paralegals like him are expressly forbidden from charging for their advice.

Law Behind Bars

Tune in to the BBC World Service at 08:06 GMT and 21:06 GMT on Sunday 14 July 2013 to listen to Catherine Fellows' documentary about Kenya's pioneering prisoners taking on the legal system.